


it's always a good time!

by piggy09



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 14:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18284354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: The Wildemount High Lesbian Club meets during lunch, on the gross set of stairs by the library.





	it's always a good time!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to my high school lesbian self. Be gay! Do crimes!

The Wildemount High Lesbian Club is a secret, but that’s only because whenever Jester tries to invite pretty girls to the club Beau jabs her in the ribs with her elbow. And Beau’s elbows are really pointy, so the club is still a secret.

They meet on the gross set of steps by the library, during lunch – the first part of the meeting is swapping food, when Nott pulls dirty quarters from the pocket of her huge grey sweatshirt and then in exchange she takes Beau’s beautiful boxed lunches and Beau rummages through Jester’s backpack to find protein bars and then goes and buys cookies for Jester with Nott’s stolen money. It always takes, like, ten minutes, and then by the time Beau gets back they mostly just eat, but they eat in a lesbian way so Jester still thinks it counts.

Nott takes the top step, because she likes to be tall; Beau and Jester take the step below her, always. That’s just the way it works. Nott hunched up like a little raccoon, chucking orange peels at the skin bared by Beau’s crop top – and Jester having to find a way to sit so that her skirt doesn’t ride up too far on her thighs – and Beau picking up orange peels and dropping them into the ruffles of Jester’s skirt – and Jester threatening to stab Beau with the knife she’s _sure_ is in Nott’s pocket, and not meaning the threat, and Beau calming down anyways.

“Yasha totally nodded at me in French class,” Beau says, reaching up and behind her to steal back a celery stick from the lunchbox Nott is cradling on her lap.

“She has a girlfriend,” Nott snaps. She jabs her filthy bare foot into Beau’s shoulder and keeps sourly munching celery sticks and vegan sushi rolls (Beau’s mom is going through a phase).

“Okay,” Jester says, “but if she has a girlfriend, then why haven’t any of us seen her, huh? _I_ think—”

“I saw it,” Nott mutters. “On her phone. Her girlfriend’s name is Zuala. She lives in Xhorhas.”

“—that actually she is _pining_ , and maybe she’s pining for _Beau_ , and – Nott! Why did you look at her phone!”

“She left it out.”

“She has a _girlfriend?_ ” Beau squawks. “Dude, that _sucks_. What the fuck she has a girlfriend. _Shit_.”

“Did you steal Yasha’s phone?!”

“No,” Nott says. “I borrowed it, very briefly, and then I—”

“Did she say anything about me?” Beau says.

“You can’t just steal people’s phones, Nott, that isn’t very nice, and also Yasha has _huge_ muscles, and probably she could beat you up, probably, even though I don’t think she would because she’s so—”

“No, she didn’t say anything about you to her _girlfriend_ , Beau, don’t be stupid—”

“It’s not stupid! You don’t even know if that’s her girlfriend—”

“—nice, and strong, and shy, like that vampire from that book – do you think Yasha is a vampire?”

“She’s a year ahead of you anyways!”

“Dude, shut up, I’m mature for my age!”

“You ate granola bars for lunch! They aren’t even your granola bars!”

“They’ve got, like, fiber and shit! I’m practically eighty years old!”

“Everybody be quiet!” Jester yells, and – shockingly! surprisingly! – everybody is quiet. The only sound is the distant yelling of a whole bunch of nasty straight boys doing whatever it is they do during lunch. Beau and Nott are staring at Jester, eyes wide. They both have really pretty eyes, actually, but Jester isn’t going to think about that!

“Guys,” Jester says in a hushed whisper, “okay so. Guys. Hey. Do you think Yasha’s a vampire?”

“No,” says Nott, at the same time Beau says: “Maybe.” They both whip their heads around to stare at each other. Jester can see the thought bubbles above their heads: _is_ Yasha a vampire? Maybe. That would explain why she’s so pale, and pretty, and quiet all the time. Also she _broods_ , which Jester didn’t even know was something you could _do_ in real life.

“She does have a very aristocratic demeanor,” Nott offers. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she was one hundred years old. _Secretly_.”

“Yeah, but like,” Beau says, scratching the edge of her undercut, “why would she go back to _high school_ , y’know? Like, if I was a vampire, I would just get a motorcycle and – take off.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Jester says. “You would turn me first, so that I could also live forever and have cool fangs, and then you would also turn Nott because you _love_ her, and then the _three_ of us would go off on our cool motorcycles. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Beau says easily. She bumps her shoulder into Jester’s. “You’d make an awesome vampire, Jes.”

“I know!”

“Nott, you’d be creepy as shit.”

“I know,” Nott says, sounding delighted. She grins, her sharp teeth snagged with bits of vegan seaweed and probably kale. (Beau’s mom likes kale a lot.) (She likes kale more than she likes Beau, actually.) (Which sucks.) “You would both be too scared to go bite people’s necks, but _I_ would do it. I’d bring back blood for both of you. I would be your sugar daddy.”

“Never say sugar daddy again,” Beau says. “Ever. God. Where did you even hear that?!”

“I get around,” Nott says. She leans back against the wall, props her heels up on Beau’s shoulder. Beau mutters _gross_ under her breath but doesn’t stop it. She just shuffles a little bit so she’s sort of leaning against Jester; Jester throws her arms around Beau, grabs one of Nott’s bony ankles. They’re both very warm.

“I wish I was a vampire,” Nott says. “This school is complete shit. There’s no way Yasha is a vampire because she wouldn’t ever stay here if she had a choice.”

“It’s not _all_ shitty,” Jester says sadly. She stares at Nott’s chipped toenail polish, the ragged echoes of Jester’s favorite sparkly holographic purple.

“You’re not shitty,” Nott says. “You’re too good for this place.”

“What about me, huh?” Beau says. Her eyes have skittered off somewhere towards the library.

“You’re—” Nott starts. There’s a second where Jester can tell she’s going to go for her usual back-and-forth with Beau, _you’re a stupid jock is what you are_ , and then she visibly stops herself. “You’re not shitty either,” she says. “I never said that. If anyone asks. If you tell anyone I said that I will cut out your tongue and eat it.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna tell people that _super_ great compliment you just gave me,” Beau mutters. “Can’t wait to go yell that one out all over this campus—”

“Shut up,” Nott says. “You’re – you’re – good at sports, and you have a nice laugh, and I like spending time with you, and blue brings out your eyes! Alright! Eugh!”

Beau’s face flushes a dark color. “Blue _does_ bring out your eyes, Beau,” Jester says helpfully. “You have really pretty eyes. They’re like the sky, or little blue raspberries.”

Beau’s face goes even darker. “Shut up,” she mutters. “ _You’re_ like a little blue raspberry.”

“Thank you, Beau,” Jester chirps, and she leans in to kiss Beau’s flushed cheek. (Beau smells like men’s deodorant.) (It’s a good smell, but only when it’s Beau’s smell.)

“And thank you, Nott,” she says, leaning up on the stairs so she can kiss Nott’s dry and pimply face. Nott makes a _hing!_ sound in her throat, but allows it. “Thank you for saying I am not shitty, that was very nice of you.”

“No it wasn’t,” Nott says in a low little voice.

“Yes it was!”

“Not really, though.”

“Yes it was!” Jester says, letting her voice go up at the edges. She clambers over Beau to get to the top step (“I’m just gonna stay down here,” Beau mutters, “I’m impartial”) and then grabs Nott’s long-nailed hands in her hands. “Hi,” Jester says. “You’re not shitty either, and you _also_ have pretty eyes. They’re so cool! They’re like gold colored!”

“They’re hazel,” Nott says, looking away, eyes twitching around. “It’s just like brown that isn’t brown. Half-assed brown.”

“Gold,” Beau calls out, sounding bored.

“Gold!” Jester says, and beams until Nott shrinks into herself and stops arguing. Then Jester hooks her legs over Beau’s other shoulder and twines her fingers with Nott’s fingers, feeling a warm happy glow light up her chest and belly. Yasha’s pretty, and strong, and her eyes are so cool, but Jester wouldn’t really want to spend all of lunch with her. So it’s probably a good thing that Beau won’t let Jester invite her to the club. Besides, Yasha is so big – how would they all fit together, Beau’s hand laced around Jester’s ankle, Nott’s fingers tied between Jester’s like bracelet strings?

The bell rings. “Aw _shit_ ,” Jester says. “Already?”

Beau groans, lets go of Jester’s ankle, stands up and grabs her backpack. She shoves her lunchbox back in there without looking before she reaches down a hand to pull Jester up.

“Fuck me,” Beau says, “I have math now. Fuck math.”

Nott is begrudgingly shoving her feet back in the oversized falling-apart Converse she wears to her classes, from her classes, and nowhere else. “At least it isn’t PE,” she mutters.

“Man, I _wish_ it was PE. Or Art. _Fuck_ I wish I was in an art class with Yasha, I would _rock_ that shit.”

Jester puts her backpack on, grabs Beau’s hand in her left and Nott’s hand in her right and swings both of them as they go down the stairs. “Beau,” she says, “you’re super good at PE, and stuff, but your drawings look like shit. Sorry but it’s true. That’s why _I_ get to go to Art class with Yasha and you don’t! That is just the facts.”

Beau makes a wordless noise of complaint and ruffles Jester’s hair with her free hand. “Peace out, bitches,” she says, squeezing Jester’s hand and then letting go. “See you after school?”

“Obviously,” Jester says. She takes her free hand and ruffles Nott’s hair with it, biting her lip around a smile as Nott squawks. “See you after school, Nott!”

“Yes,” Nott says, and she smiles. It’s a good smile. When Nott smiles, for real, really for real, her eyes get all squinty and you can see all of her teeth. It’s a very nice smile – and then it’s gone, as Nott peels off in some vague Nott-direction and pulls the hood of her sweatshirt up over her head. Is she going to her gym class? Maybe, but probably not. Who knows.

Jester makes it to Art just before the bell rings; she has to get past Yasha to get to her seat, so she squeezes around Yasha’s arm muscles to head towards her desk. Stops. Backs up and slams her hands on the desk in front of the protective hunch Yasha is making over her phone.

Yasha startles, drops the phone on her desk. “Uh,” she says. “Hi?”

Jester leans in close. “You can tell me,” she hisses, “if you’re a vampire. Okay? I’ll keep your secret, I promise.”

Yasha blinks at her, rapidly. “O—” she says. “Okay. Thank you. I may…take you up on that.”

“Good!” Jester says, and heads for her seat. She has to bite down on a big smile on the way there. She can’t _wait_ to tell Nott and Beau.

**Author's Note:**

> Doesn't matter when!  
> It's always a good time then  
> Doesn't matter where!  
> It's always a good time there
> 
> We don't even have to try  
> It's always a good time  
> \--"Good Time," Owl City & Carly Rae Jepsen
> 
> ...eventually Yasha joins the club but all she does is text her girlfriend "help. these stupid baby gays haven't figured out that they're all in love with each other yet. what do i do. i'm not qualified for this."
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


End file.
